


Just Took Up

by stillscape



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-06 00:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12200709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stillscape/pseuds/stillscape
Summary: Prompt:It's no lie that archie andrews is insecure. Even Cheryl knows that he can't keep a girlfriend. But what happens when Archie fears that Veronica is bored with him? After all, she does belong in another world than he.I'll leave this prompt up for interpretation and the writer can finish this as they choose.The author has chosen to take this into a college AU.





	Just Took Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lostinthoughtdr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lostinthoughtdr/gifts).



> Title is shamelessly borrowed from _Breakfast at Tiffany's_. Thanks to my beta and to the person who let me bounce ideas off of them (I'll credit properly when the anonymous posting period is over). Hope you enjoy!

Archie Andrews had always found comfort in a good routine. He had been a creature of habit in high school, and for the most part, his habits served him well. He’d carried his daily routines—adjusted slightly, of course—into college.

Wake up early to go for a run. Dining hall for breakfast. Morning class. Dining hall for lunch. Afternoon class, or else self-imposed study time. Guitar practice. Dining hall for dinner. After dinner, hanging out with whatever friends he could dredge up on that particular day. On Saturdays, he had flag football in the afternoons and could usually find a party at night; on Sundays, he had his part-time job stocking shelves at a grocery store near campus. And then there were Wednesdays. Wednesdays were open mic night at Pop Tate’s Coffee Shop, where one of his two best friends worked as a barista, and the other of his best friends (who was also his roommate) could inevitably be found banging away on a laptop in the back corner.

This routine had all worked remarkably well during Archie’s freshman year. He’d had fun, even though he missed his father and his dog. He’d kept his grades up, thanks to hard work and either Jughead or Betty looking over most of his papers. He’d dated a few girls, though none seriously.

But that was freshman year. That was before Veronica Lodge.

The first Wednesday night of sophomore year, Veronica walked into Pop’s wearing a string of pearls around her neck, a black cape over her shoulders, and a smile that Jughead later described as “sultry but curious.” Archie was on stage at the time (really, it was just a slightly raised platform at the back of the coffee shop), and when he’d caught Veronica’s eye, he’d forgotten every one of the words to the song he was singing.

“Who is she, d’you think?” he asked Jughead and Betty that night, as they walked home from Pop’s.

(His two best friends were walking arm-in-arm now, and sometimes even kissing in front of him. When this had started happening, Archie wasn’t sure; he only knew that the routine had already been compromised.)

Jughead shrugged. “She was in my American Lit class yesterday, but I didn’t catch her name. Ten to one it’s Holly Golightly.”

“It’s Veronica,” Betty supplied. “Nonfat mocha, double shot, extra chocolate sprinkles.”

 _Veronica_.

Veronica came into Pop’s during Betty’s Thursday shift and ordered an iced coffee. She came Friday, and ordered a cappuccino.

Betty knocked on Archie and Jughead’s door just after lunchtime on Saturday. She held a to-go cup in each hand. One was her usual half-caf iced latte; the other she held out to Jughead.

“Single-origin pour-over this morning,” she told Archie.

Jughead rolled his eyes as he took the coffee—it would be a black drip, Archie knew; whatever had been at the bottom of the urn. “Of course she’d order something like that.”

“Oh, and I invited her to Cheryl’s party tonight.”

Archie was not drinking coffee, but had he been, he probably would have done a spit take.

He needn’t have worried. Turned out—he learned several hours later, as a tiny, perfectly manicured hand tugged at the waistband of his jeans—Veronica had been asking Betty about him, too.

____________________________ 

“It wasn’t anything she said. It was what she didn’t say.” Archie reached for a slice of the frozen pizza they’d just taken out of the oven, not bothering with the spatula, and dropped it onto his plate before his fingers burned. “Jug, how do you guys, you and Betty…” He trailed off, not sure exactly how to ask—or really, if he even wanted to know the answer.

Jughead, being Jughead, merely lifted an eyebrow in a way that said _I know exactly what you’re trying to ask, but I’m going to make you say the words_. He lifted a slice of pizza onto his own plate (using the spatula), then leaned back as far on his bar stool as one could, waiting.

“Keep things interesting,” Archie finished. “Not, like—not in the bedroom. I don’t need to know that.” He also didn’t need any advice in that area; sex with Veronica was _great_.

“Good, because I wouldn’t have told you.”

“In general, though.”

Jughead shrugged. “I don’t know. We just do.”

For a few moments, Archie contemplated his pizza. He must have stared at it for longer than he’d thought, because when he looked up at Jughead’s tiny throat-clearing noise, he caught sight of the uneaten crusts on his friend’s plate and realized Jughead was starting on a third slice.

“Look, Betty and I have known each other forever,” he said. “We’re just… we’re comfortable. We do pretty much the same things we did together before we started dating, except now there’s…” He trailed off with another shrug, which was more than enough for Archie to fill in the blanks.

“Yeah, I get that.” And he did; he really did. “But Veronica isn’t like Betty.”

“You think she’s bored with you.” It was half question, half statement.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” Archie sighed deeply and ran one hand through his hair. “If she’s not now, I’m afraid she will be soon.”

“Ah.” Jughead picked up his soda, took a swig, and set the bottle back on the counter. “So, this is probably something you’ve considered already, but have you talked to _Veronica_ about this?”

Archie shook his head, and took a large bite of pizza, to give himself time to think while he chewed.

The thing was, he was pretty sure their relationship looked fine from the outside. In the two months or so since he and Veronica had hooked up at Cheryl’s party, they had been almost inseparable, their relationship only aided by the fact that she and Betty had become fast friends. He saw her most afternoons after his classes were over, or at least met her for dinner on the days she had late class. She came to open mic night on Wednesdays. She’d even shown up for a couple of flag football games.

They had, almost at once, fallen into a routine. And every day, Archie Andrews worried just a little bit more that Veronica Lodge was not a routine kind of gal.

____________________________ 

“I don’t want to talk to her,” he said. “I want to _show_ her.”

“Okay. Well, first of all, from what I know of Veronica, she’s both extremely picky and incredibly straightforward.” Betty raised one eyebrow over her economics textbook. “If she didn’t like you, I don’t think she’d be wasting her time doing whatever it is you guys are doing now.”

Archie nodded. 

“And second of all, have you tried talking to Veronica about this?”

“Not yet. I mean, I want to. But I think I need your help.”

Betty’s second eyebrow appeared over the top of her economics textbook.

“I can’t do the things she’s used to, or probably expects,” he said. “I can’t afford jewelry or fancy dinners or—”

“She knows that, Archie,” Betty said, her voice sympathetic. “You’re in college. She knows you’re paying your own way. She doesn’t expect you to buy her stuff.”

He knew that. He _knew_ that.

Still, though.

____________________________ 

And so, the following Saturday, Archie Andrews purposefully broke his routine. Although it started off as most Saturdays did these days, with him waking up in Veronica’s bed. That was okay. That had been part of the plan.

Unfortunately, things went downhill from there.

Archie was a habitually early riser. Veronica rarely got out of bed before noon. Nevertheless, when he woke up in her bed that morning, it was because he heard the apartment door open and shut. When he opened his eyes, he realized that he was alone.

 _Crap_ , he thought, quickly swinging his legs over the side of the bed.

“Ronnie?” He thought he smelled coffee, which, _no_ , that wasn’t part of the plan. He located yesterday’s t-shirt, and pulled that over his head.

“In here.”

He skidded into the kitchen-slash-living room area of Veronica’s apartment wearing only his boxers, and found Veronica standing at the stove with spatula in hand, a red polka dot apron tied over her silk pajamas. She looked like Minnie Mouse; he kind of hated how much he was suddenly into that.

“Someone dropped off a box of groceries outside my door this morning,” she said, sounding amused. “Groceries I’m sure I didn’t order. What on earth am I going to do with all this pancake mix?”

“Someone was me,” he said.

“That wasn’t hard to figure out. The box was addressed to you. What’s all this for, Archie?”

He sighed. “I wanted to surprise you with breakfast in bed.”

Veronica raised an eyebrow. “You cook?”

“I’m good at pancakes and bacon.” He stood next to her, placing his hand on the spatula, over hers. “Please, Ronnie. Go back to bed, okay?”

“Oh, Archiekins,” she sighed. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going to let maple syrup anywhere near my sheets. But this is very cute.” She stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the cheek. “I’ll disappear for a bit while you slave over a hot stove, how’s that? And then we can eat in the kitchen like civilized people.”

They ate in the kitchen like civilized people. Archie had planned to clean up the kitchen afterwards, but Veronica claimed he needed a shower. 

“I’ll help you clean up.”

“That wasn’t the point,” he protested, until she took his hand and led him to the bathroom, and he realized she had no intention of cleaning up the _kitchen_.

____________________________ 

They exited Veronica’s apartment an hour later, her sink still full of dirty dishes. 

“I suppose I’m leaving you here,” she said, as they approached a street corner.

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t you have your flag football game?”

“No,” Archie said, shaking his head. “I told the guys I’m out today. I thought we could…” He trailed off. He’d made plans—there was a free film showing on campus, something French and artistic that Jughead swore Veronica ought to love—but there was something in Veronica’s expression that made him think that might not be happening now.

A little smile curled at the corners of her lips. “You didn’t have to cancel your plans for me,” she said. “I’m a big girl. I can amuse myself while you play in the dirt.”

“I know you can, I just thought…”

“You’re very sweet,” she said. “But it just so happens I have a previous engagement.”

“Oh.”

Archie reached a hand up to rub the back of his neck, and wondered how, exactly, one was supposed to plan a day of surprises for one’s girlfriend without alerting said girlfriend in advance. Wouldn’t that have taken all the _surprise_ out of it? Then again, perhaps he should have told her. The alternative, apparently, was this.

He realized, a moment later, that Veronica’s eyes were on him. “You know,” she said thoughtfully, “you _could_ come with me. I’m a loyal client, and I tip well. I’m sure they’ll be able to fit you in.”

“Fit me in where?”

____________________________ 

Veronica grinned as she whipped out her cell phone. “Well, I simply _have_ to record this for posterity.” She stepped closer to his chair, aiming the camera at his feet. “Is this your first professional pedicure, Mr. Andrews?”

It was.

And, while he certainly didn’t intend to make this a habit, he had to admit that it was, in fact, pretty relaxing.

He drew the line at toenail polish, though.

____________________________ 

They walked out of the nail salon hand in hand. Archie was starting to get a little hungry—it was well past lunchtime—but lunch hadn’t been part of his plan. Eating snacks in the movie and surviving until their dinner reservation had been the plan.

But they hadn’t gone to the movie, so…

“Coffee time,” Veronica announced, and she led him straight into the nearest café. Naturally, it was Pop Tate’s, and naturally, Betty was behind the counter.

“Hey, guys,” she said, cheerfully. “What can I get you?”

Since Archie had never learned to like coffee, he grabbed a bottle of soda and a giant cookie while Veronica ordered some espresso-based drink he’d never heard of.

Naturally, the coffee shop was much more crowded than was usual for a Saturday. There were no available tables. Archie prepared to walk and eat, but apparently, this was not to be; Veronica’s drink emerged in a ceramic mug, and by the time he’d fully realized what was happening, she’d claimed a place at Jughead’s usual table, where Jughead was already sitting. And not that Archie wasn’t always glad to see his friends, but…

“Shouldn’t you guys still be at the movie?” Jughead asked, just as Betty slid into the seat next to him, pulling her apron over her head. Of course. Of course it was her break time. And now here they were, sitting at their usual table in their usual coffee shop. True, they didn’t usually do this on Saturdays, but this was all a little too ordinary and comfortable for comfort.

Veronica, whose mug was halfway to her lips, paused. “Movie? What movie?”

“Archie said you were going to see _The Umbrellas_ —”

“Shh,” Betty said, elbowing Jughead in the ribs.

“— _of Cherbourg_ ,” Jughead finished.

Veronica turned to Archie, her perfect dark eyebrows raised. “Archiekins, you didn’t tell me you wanted to see that. Or that you’d even heard of it.”

“I wanted it to be a surprise for you.”

She placed the mug very deliberately on the table, and then placed a kiss very deliberately on his cheek. “You’re full of surprises today, aren’t you?”

“None of them have actually surprised you so far,” he sighed. He picked up the cookie and stared at it for a moment. “I guess I’d better tell you now about our dinner reservation.”

“What time is the reservation?” Veronica asked.

“6:30. Does that give you enough time to—”

“Can you cancel?”

“ _Veronica_ —”

He’d long suspected Veronica was incapable of looking embarrassed. Right now she looked a little guilty, which he supposed was the closest she was going to get.

“Well, the thing is,” she said, “ _I_ have a surprise for _you_.”

He called to cancel the dinner reservations. Veronica looked a little disappointed when she heard the name of the restaurant. At least, Archie thought grimly—at least he’d gotten _that_ right.

____________________________ 

He felt more than a little defeated as they walked back to his dorm room. Veronica, seeming to sense this, linked her arm through his and tugged playfully.

“What has all this been about, Archie? Breakfast in bed, foreign films, fancy dinners? It’s not like you.”

He shrugged. “I was just trying—I wanted—” He took a deep breath. “I thought we should do some different things, you know?”

“Any particular reason for that?”

“Veronica…” He stopped walking, and pulled her to a halt as well. She turned to face him, and he put a hand on each side of her waist, hoping to steady his nerves.

He knew he wasn’t always great at expressing his feelings; that was why he had wanted to show her instead.

“I just don’t want you to get bored with me,” he said.

Veronica’s brow quirked. “Bored with you?”

“Yeah. I mean…” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly before speaking. “You’re more exciting than I am, you know? You’re used to a lot more than I think I can give you.”

Two small hands slid around the back of his neck. “Archie Andrews,” she said, a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You’re a lot of things, but _boring_ is not one of them.”

Now it was his turn to quirk an eyebrow at her. “You were surprised when I didn’t spend my Saturday doing the same things I do every Saturday.”

Veronica shook her head, stretched up for a little kiss, and then proceeded to walk on.

“Routines don’t make you boring. Archie, do you know why I like you?” Thankfully, she didn’t seem to require an answer. “Now, I’ll admit the initial attraction was purely physical—and don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate all of _this_.” She gestured at his torso. “But you’re a lot more than arm candy, Archie. You’re the nicest guy I’ve ever dated. And I know people don’t always mean that as a compliment, but I do.”

“Okay…” It was a compliment, he knew that, but it honestly didn’t seem like much of a step up from _not boring_.

“I’m not always the easiest person to be with,” she said, her voice a little softer. “I know that. And you really—you absorb me, the worst parts of me. Like today. I managed to ruin every single one of your surprises, and yet here you are, cheerfully going along with whatever it is that I have planned. You know most guys wouldn’t just sit down for a pedicure, right?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to spend time with you.”

“I know,” she said, turning to give him her most brilliant smile. “See? We’re on exactly the same page.”

“Uh…what page is that, exactly?”

“‘Why Veronica Lodge Likes Archie Andrews.’ Top-flight story, really. Hitting Riverdale University’s finest campus gossip blogs tomorrow morning.”

Now he felt totally lost. “Ronnie, what exactly do you have planned for tonight? And why are we starting whatever it is in my dorm room?”

“We’re just going to get your guitar,” she said. “You see, my friend Josie—have you met Josie? I don’t think I’ve introduced you yet. Anyway, Josie’s throwing a little soiree this evening, and she’s invited me to sing. I told her I’d been seeing someone with the gifts of Ed Sheeran but the body of a Greek god, and well, she’s become quite anxious to hear you. So…” She slid her hand down to his, and gave it a surprisingly tight squeeze. “How would you feel about some duets?”

“Wait, Josie? _Josie McCoy_?” He had not been introduced to Josie, but anyone who hung around the music department knew who she was. “And wait. You sing?”

“Like an angel.” She turned so she was walking backwards, and playfully dragged him along. “So what do you say, Archiekins?”

He tried to swallow down the nervousness that had cropped up at the thought of singing in front of Josie McCoy. It was stupid, he told himself, especially since he’d be with Veronica—and she clearly had enough confidence for the both of them.

“I think we’re going in the wrong direction.”

Veronica stopped, a puzzled expression crossing her face.

“I hid my guitar in your apartment,” he said. “That was part of the last surprise.”

“Oh.” Veronica went right on walking in the same direction. “Well, we’ll stop by your dorm room anyway. Not that your grandpa cardigans aren’t adorable, but…” She scrunched up her nose. “Would you object to your girlfriend having a little input on stage wear?”


End file.
